Illogical Reactions, Logical Reasons
by TheDarkFlygon
Summary: Connor wonders why Hank always gets this angry when he takes risks to accomplish their mission. Meanwhile, a grumpy police lieutenant isn't very happy about his partner seems to distrust him. A mission gone slightly awry is going to patch things up, causing them to tell the other.


Humans were irrational beings. It came with being made out of skin, bones and uncontrolled thoughts. Their blood was red and their behaviour was impossible to truly predict, even if one was to open them apart and search through their fleshy components to analyse them. They had done that to themselves anyway in the past: that was why human anatomy was so known these days.

Humans also knew a lot about androids. It was only normal: they had made them, after all. They'd be the most well-placed to know what was inside an android and everything about an android. Even then, just like only a handful of humans knew a lot about the human anatomy, only a few humans knew much about androids: that was something common between the two demographics.

Deviancy had shifted that tide. Ever since androids had started deviating from their program, developing what seemed to be emotions but were first thought to be merely glitches and hiccups in their programming, simply faulty encoding going haywire, the two demographics had started to be more and more alike. That had been worrisome only a couple months ago: now, it seemed like everyone was okay with it.

Or were they? Violence was still there, resulting from bigotry and misunderstandings alike on both sides (mostly on the humans: after all, they were the demographic who didn't have to deviate to answer back to violence or insults). Yet, society was moving forward, moving along. It was what change and progress were about, and as they had said before: you couldn't stop progress.

Despite his base coding all being about stopping deviants, no matter who they were and what they thought, Connor had also been programmed to expect the unexpected and unexpectable. It made sense, in a way: deviants didn't behave coherently around ninety percent of the time. Working with humans was another thing difficult to predict, after all.

He had been assigned to a decorated, yet grumpy and easily angered lieutenant, Lt. Hank Anderson. Their partnership had started on rocky shores: he hated androids, insulted his partner of "plastic prick" and other assorted insults, screamed at his captain not to be involved in an android case. Luckily, they had gotten over it: from forced-by-the-circumstances partners, they had become fire-forged friends… Maybe more than that, even.

However, there was one thing Connor had yet to decipher about the lieutenant: why did Hank always seem to phrase things in a way going against the meaning of his thoughts? It was like he was physically unable to phrase things the way he thought they were unless some drastic situation triggers them to exit his mouth without thinking, without even blinking. For someone so outspoken, barking at other people insults if he felt like insulting them while disregarding every single protocol ever established by human society, he sure was dishonest at times, if other officers were to be believed. Break room conversations around a coffee cup or five seemed to be the one place were honesty shone through.

"You asshole, why don't you ever do as you're told?!"

"Stop scaring me like that, goddammit!"

"You could've got yourself killed, fucking…"

 _Why is he always so angry when I do what I feel is right?_

That question remaining without its answers, he straightened his tie and resumed preparing for going to work.

A new day, a new fucking case about deviants. It was a routine at that point. It always went the same way: get a call, get a case sent in, see it was about yet another android being a human, finding said android, making sure it wasn't killing shit around, either arrest it or bring it to New Jericho. Incredibly easy at times, ungodly frustrating at others.

That time… was one of those times. Of course it had to be.

Hank had known from the moment he woke up in the morning, from the moment he heard Sumo whimper and the moment he had seen Connor fail his infamously angering coin trick thing that it was going to be a shitty day. Jeffrey yelling about a new and urgent deviancy case as if he was a CyberLife promoter screaming about the latest android model, Reed just being even more of an insufferable asshole as he usually was, everything was bad and it sucked.

Connor didn't look like he really wanted to be there either. He looked a little too blue to his tastes, eyes even goofier than usual, hair looking a bit dishevelled. If anything and if he didn't know better, Hank would have said the boy looked tired and had woken up on the wrong foot. Did androids even wake up? Connor had never explained that.

The mission was about a rogue deviant killing people here and there. The guy had somehow managed to get a hold of an entire building, an old and soon-to-be-destroyed tower which used to host a successful company, by squeezing in there, hacking some shit around and either disarming, disabling or killing security. Androids in the corridors had also been shoved aside, while one deviant and working there had warned the DPD before pretending to shut down.

The main objective was to apprehend the douchebag while making sure nobody else would get injured. Easier said than done, as usual: there were cameras now working for him, a feeling of dread all over his spine and other nasties. There was an oppressing atmosphere all around them.

As they made their way down the dark, grey and cold corridors together, gun in his hands, Connor walking right behind him, the shivers he didn't want to feel kept trying to creep on his back. The silence around the building was eerie, even for a place that had been evacuated because the police came in to take care of it. This wasn't good at all.

There was, however, a weird and foreign-sounding ventilation sound near him, akin to breathing. Looking at the vents around them, there seemed to be nothing wrong with them. But, just in case…

"Connor," Hank spoke up as he glanced at his partner. "Is there anything toxic in the air? That vent system sure makes a lot of fuckin' noise."

The android's LED flashed yellow as he looked around.

"78% nitrogen, 21% dioxygen and 1% miscellaneous gaz, the usual composition of air on Earth. Nothing life-threatening, Lieutenant."

"Uh… So, ya have any idea what's making that much noise?" A thought crossed his mind, a thought he felt like he had to get out there. "It better not be you, by the way."

"I can't tell for sure," Connor replied as his eyes looked away and his LED still showed yellow. "Maybe we'll see other clues later."

"Yeah… Sure."

In disbelief and slight distrust, Hank continued to make his way down there, the ventilation sound not stopping. They were following blue trails of red and blue blood alike, mixing in that disgusting purple colour, driving them to the highest floors of the building one staircase at a time. The more they advanced, the louder the sound was. Something was up and that was pissing him off to even think about it.

Quick, keep your calm, Hank. Focus on the mission and _don't, fuck, up_.

The sound did come from the vents, he was sure of it. It was always far louder near them. At times, he could swear he had seen someone or at least something in the pipes. It didn't seem like it was any rat or other shitty rodent fucking with them. And, well, there was no one but-

"Hank, look out!"

Connor's panicked voice broke him from his pensive trance. As he took cover, looking behind him, he saw a third party smash his way out of the ventilation system, out of the vent and appearing before them. A gunshot made it unnecessary to see the weapon in his goddamn robotic fingers: they were in immediate danger of death. Fuck. He needed to do something to assure their survival.

Getting out his own gun at a speed he didn't think he was still able to pull off with his age, he shot a bullet in the guy's legs with no remorse. A few gunshot sounds followed, from both him and that fucker, deafening everything else before a body fell into its own pool of blue blood. Mission success, he guessed.

As he got up, Hank looked down on the android he had just killed off.

"I didn't wanna shoot him to death, but I guess he left us no choice. That's what you risk for being a stupid asshole."

He then gave Connor a glance, the other android getting up on his own feet, a hand supporting his abdomen.

"Let's continue, m'kay? We need to see if someone else's hidden in there."

But then some concern crept up on his back and into his words.

'Wait, you're alright, Connor? Ya look shaken to me. I can go alone if ya need some rest."

The kid shook off his head and gave him a small smile, yet his hand never moved and his LED still flashed that sickly yellow, rising some familiar red flags.

"No, I'm all fine. Let's keep going."

With doubts still lingering in his mind, Hank nodded and turned his back to get to more floors and find more people. The heavy-handed ventilation sound was nowhere to be found again, making him think it was nice when it fucking stopped, until it came back. Looking around, fixating the vents again, the voice who spoke up next wasn't his.

"Lieutenant, is there something wrong?" Connor asked.

Turning his head to his partner revealed the later to look curious and almost worried, but also… kind of lost? Perhaps the kid was getting tired. After all, they had been there for a while, they deserved to sit at a table and dick around in the staff rooms at the station.

"Ya hear that noise?"

"What noise?"

"You're shittin' me, right? That heavy breathing sound from earlier! It's back!"

Yet, Connor looked genuinely confused.

"I'm sorry, but I really don't see what sound you're referring to, Lieutenant. Perhaps it's the ventilation system going haywire?"

Hank knew he was frowning in distrust. They hadn't come across anyone for the past dozen minutes, the sound was getting louder at every step they took, and yet… Even now, as they were static and looking around, it was getting louder. It was previously a rogue android's breathing creeping up on them to shoot them in the head. It wasn't his, otherwise he'd feel breathless (and he, miraculously, didn't smoke, so his lungs weren't as bad as his rotting livers). There was probably on one around. Using some detective skills, he came up with a logical conclusion he fucking hated instantly.

"Connor, that's yours. Stop tryin' to bullshit me."

The kid looked at first like a brat getting busted for eating sugar when he wasn't authorized to (wait, that reminded him of something from lightyears ago…), breathing hitching and betraying the fact it was indeed his and not any ventilation system going haywire. _Called it._

"I… suppose so…" Connor replied, available hand near his chin. "Sorry for the inconve-"

However, his eyes rolled inside his robotic skull before he could finish his sentence and collapsed forward, barely caught into the older guy's arms. Once again, speed he didn't know he had and a boiling rage inside his mouth, just about to exit his mouth in a floor of swears and insults able to corrupt the first pure child walking past him.

However, and as much as he wished it was, it was no time to swear his head off. Slowly getting to his knees, he put the android's head on his lap as he tried to see what was wrong. Someone collapsing like that out of the blue (no pun intended) didn't make a shred of sense: there had to be an ulterior reason. And he was going to find that fucking reason before it was too late.

His eyes fluttered to some splatters of blue on the ground near them. They looked really out of place on the grey linoleum floor: it had to be blood. Checking if his theory was true, Hank gently pulled away the jacket from where Connor was previously putting a hand on. Without a shred of surprise, yet feeling burning disappointment from this not-discovery, he found out that there was cobalt dampening the white fabric of his shirt and starting to taint the jacket with it. That fucker had been bleeding for who how long and he hadn't said a thing.

Hank didn't need to see more. He got up and put Connor's arm around his shoulders, with the firm intention of not letting him die, then making sure to kill him for his recklessness once he'd be out of danger, because that was what people who cared did, right?

When Connor rebooted, or woke up in human words (it was more technical than that, but…), he was met with static all over his sensors and an uncomfortable thumping of his systems against his forehead. Everything was white, pristine white, nothing like the last thing he thought he had seen. Position: lying down, unknown bed, unknown room, unknown location. Disinfectant smell in the air detected. Artificial lights coming from the ceiling. It seemed to be a facility of some sorts.

"You're back, huh," a familiar, reassuring voice came to his hearing sensors freshly turned on.

The older man got up from what seemed to be a chair or a stool and looked over the android, eyes looking right into the other pair struggling to remain open.

"You're such a goddamn fucking moron, y'know that?!" he rose his voice, frowning.

"Please excuse me, but… why the insults? Is there anything I did wrong?"

"Ya ever heard about trusting your partner?"

Connor gave his partner a confused look, matching the mismatch between the words and what he knew.

"What do you mean? I fully trust you, Hank."

"Oh, you do?" The lieutenant scoffed with sarcasm tinting his face. "I wouldn't have thought with the shit you can pull off."

"I'm afraid I don't understand. We accomplished the mission, right?"

"Yeah, we did, but that wasn't what I was talkin' about!"

"Then, what? You look angry with me, Hank…"

Was it all a giant misunderstanding? It really sounded like they weren't talking about the same topic. It was confusing, a feeling of being lost in translation made stronger by the shaky state his processors were still in after passing out like that.

"Of course I'm fucking angry! That hasn't occurred to you to tell me you were injured?!"

Hank's raging, strong and rough voice was fearsome to face. As if trying to lay an emphasis on his words, he got up from his chair with vigour. It had been a long time since he had last heard it directed at him like that.

"Well, huh…" There was hesitation and doubt plaguing his voice box. "We had to focus on the mission, right? I'm sorry if this has slowed you down."

There was very clearly something else to Hank's sudden rage than just slowing him down because of a wound, but… did he really _want_ to know?

The human crossed his arms, clenching his teeth as the android tried sitting up, only for a sore feeling in his right to resonate.

"Listen, forget about that mission before everything bullcrap these CyberLife jerks must have injected in your programming. I'm talkin' to ya about yourself, Connor. Why didn't you tell me you were injured, above a fucking mission? Why did you think that'd slow me down?"

Connor looked away, LED flickering in pensiveness and a struggle to find an adequate reply to the situation. Time to toss the lying program away, then.

"I didn't want to worry you, Hank. We were already in a tense situation, and I figured telling you about my damage would concern you and slow us down."

"Well you fucked up, because guess who got worried to death when you collapsed right in front of his eyes."

This last bit made something tick inside of him.

"You're angry because… you're worried?"

This was such an irrational path to take to express concern…

"Bingo! You scared me shitless when your eyes went all blank like that, y'know that?! What would ya feel like if I hid from you that I had gotten shot?!"

"Well, I'd be… upset that you didn't want to tell me. I'd think you had an issue with telling me, and I'd take issue with that."

"See? That's what I'm feeling right now, and what _anyone_ who cares would feel like. Don't fuckin' hide something like that, bullet wounds are serious, even for ya!"

"I see…"

Hank sat down again, arms still crossed, and let out a long sigh.

"I know you want to be like our indestructible man, but that's bullshit and you know it. For the number of times I've seen you take a bullet in the past months, none targeted your vitals like that. For a second I thought you could _die_ from it!"

"I'll be fine, I promise."

"I know you're gonna be up and runnin' again sooner than I'll ever think is possible. You always are anyway. I'm tired of you hidin' shit like that from us, from me, that's it. I hope you get that drilled through your fuckin' skull once and for all."

Despite the irrationality of this anger, Connor could somewhat get behind it. As he did so, embracing Hank's feelings as much as he could and take in account the concern humans and deviants alike could feel, he took a breath.

"I understand where you're coming from. I'd get worried when you'd try to make it so you weren't doing well. I promise I'll tell you whenever I get injured."

"Not just injured, son. Just tell me every time you're under the weather or unable to do something. We're partners, no? Then let's act and trust each other like partners do, okay? You don't have to do all that on your own."

Connor felt a smile show up on his mouth as a hand tapped on his shoulder.

"Let's act as such, then."

"That's what I wanted to hear. Now, thanks to your shenanigans, I'm free of doing paperwork, so I'll have to thank you for being fuckin' stupid just that once."

And they laughed at it.

"I'm also glad this allowed that."

As a deviant, he could only embrace the irrationality of the human being and of the human soul, feelings and words alike. He was one of them: a being full of questionable decisions and doings, a mind with its own intricate logic sometimes defying reason itself. He had still a lot to learn about emotions, but he'd have to take that one step at a time.

That, and stop thinking of himself as this soulless, merciless and cold one-man army he had been programmed to be.


End file.
